Shadow poetry

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Destroys                                                                                             
Arrogant                                                                                           
Ruins and rebels                                                                                 
Kindled by fear                                                                                     
Narcissistic                                                                                    
Endless                                                                                       
Sick                                                                                            
Suffocating                                                                              
 
                                                                                                            
I once swapped lives with a shadow,              
she hung in a frame on the wall.                            
I blinked and looked back                                            
felt my breath slack
and now the girl stood in my hall.
With her in the hall,                                                               
and me on my wall,                                                        
I blinked and looked back and I bawled.                              
I was back in the hall,                                                                  
and her on the wall,                                                                                             
but our faces, our bodies                                                                                 
were not ours at all.                                                                                
As she stood there staring,                                                                           
our eyes left comparing,                                                                              
what once was ours          
was now on the other
and her picture frame,
it was tearing.
I ripped and tore that wood frame apart
and the second I stopped
felt the beat of her heart.
Now she stands here beside me,
us both in the hall
nothing but a body,
and a new face in the wall.


The dark is like an old toy you can throw away. Sometimes those toys just don't want to go. They'll come back at night, shrouded by dark, steal into your home, stalk into your bedroom, and watch you sleep. It's hard for a toy to part. The shadow people are like your imaginary friends. Nothing's ever really there, but your mind plays tricks, and you think you're being watched. But, are you really thinking? or do you know what lurks in the shadows?


I have a cat as black as night
and a dog shining bright as the day.
Whenever that cat stalks into the room,
my dog makes a point to run away.
I don't know the reason,
why day runs from night,
inside this dear house of mine,
but I guess it makes sense
for night to not run away.
It explains why it's night all the time.

--K.K.

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